


Haunting Dreams

by corvusdae



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 03:15:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4944649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvusdae/pseuds/corvusdae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Was this his fault? He couldn't sleep. Since days. Since he saw how Kavinsky died. He can't remember<br/>the last time he wasn't dreaming about this piece of shit- when he was able to dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haunting Dreams

'With me or against me.' he said. Ronan's mouth instantly went dry, his throat following,  
unable to say anything. Unable to repeat words, he said in the past.  
Because he know exatly what would follow after those few little words, so he just couldn't bring himself to do so. He couldn't say it.  
Instead of words slipping out of his mouth he felt the sand under his bare feet getting warmer.  
Warmer than his own skin. Warmer than hot water. Warmer than coals. Kavinsky didn't even flinch, just a mirage, not moving, as flames  
starting to boil up around him, burning down his clothes, as Ronan's, who wanted to run away, move his feet, but can't.  
Instead he saw Kavinsky burning in front of him. Burning alive. Dying right before him. Was this his fault?  
Ronan opened his eyes. It was just a bad dream. He was still shaking, the sweat running down his spine, the dream still stucking in his head.  
'Was this his fault?' He sat up, glancing through his dark room, as it could give him an answer to this burning question.  
He sighed deeply. Chainsaw was sleeping beneath his bed in her cage, head covered under her wings.  
Ronan could almost hear her heart beating, the silence was thick like honey. Should he talk to Gansey about it?  
Was this his fault? He couldn't sleep. Since days. Since he saw how Kavinsky died. He can't remember  
the last time he wasn't dreaming about this piece of shit- when he was able to dream.  
The next day- it was a tuesday, Ronan thought, Adam made a cheap comment on his eyebags. Ronan didn't react.  
He wasn't so sure anymore when he was asleep or when he was awake.  
Kavinsky appeared in front of him on empty school corridors, on the backseat on  
his BMW, lied his hand on Gansey's shoulder when he was talking to Ronan,  
running his index finger down his tattoo when he was starring out the window at night, unable to find sleep.  
Gansey was asking something- Ronan couldn't say what it was. 'Ronan! What is wrong with you?'  
he asked, grabbing Ronan by the shoulders, slowly shaking him.  
'Kavinsky won't let me sleep, Gansey. He said it's my fault.'  
The rest of the conversation escaped Ronan's attention, his gaze drifting away, away from Gansey's  
'-Wasn't- he would have anyway - all those drugs-', sentences.  
He wasn't so sure what happened after that, but he was sitting in his room on his bed.  
'Feeling better? You passed out in front of class. You slept for 12 hours straight.' 12 hours.  
New record. Never in his life he slept for such a long time. He couldn't remember what he was dreaming.  
Was he dreaming about Kavinsky again?  
He felt better. He laid his eyes on Gansey, who wasn't looking back, instead he was starring at something behind Ronan.  
With knitted eyebrows he turned around.  
Behind him, sleeping, laid Kavinsky.  
Suddenly Ronan stood beside Gansey, without any memory how he'd get there. Silence. 'Did you-'  
'Appearently.' Ronan answered the unspoken  
question which didn't escaped Gansey's mouth. Dream-Kavinsky mumbled in his sleep.  
Ronan felt like he sliped from one nightmare into the other. 'Let- let me alone.'  
He sat beside Kavinsky, slowly laying his hands on his shoulder shaking it carefully first, then almost demanding.  
Kavinsky sighed, mumbling something in bulgarian. 'Let me dream for a little bit longer, princess.', he said, voice still draped in sleep.  
Ronan could see his eyes darting the wall in front of him. 'Wake up, fucker.' Ronan said.  
He turned around. There was nothing missing in his face,  
nor on his body. His lazy smile, hungry eyes, golden necklace. Ronan couldn't bring himself to not stare at him.  
'What you're starring at, faggot?' Ronan didn't answer, in his mind echoed one of real- Kavinsky's last words:  
'And don't tell me you don't swing that way, man. I'm in your head.'  
And he already knew it before his index finger touched Kavinsky's collarbone.  
He knew it, before his breath became shorter and his heartbeat felt like someone left shoes in a dryer.  
Then he kissed him. Kavinsky said nothing. Starred at him.  
Dark eyes meeting blue ones. 'Finally.' he said. Then they kissed again.  
Ronan knew it was wrong. The tips of their tongues met, teeth pulling on bottom lips, fingers gliding down necks, spines, arms,  
hipbones, creating goosebumps on their way. The breathing got heavier, insisting more, getting more by hands wandering down their bodies,  
finding what they're craving. Trembling hands, opening buttons on black now tight jeans. Lips searching for necks to bite.  
Hoarse moaning as two skins became one, getting louder, between them, between every thrust a loud 'C'mon, Lynch!' as he came, Ronan after him.  
Four days it went like this. Ronan was way past knowing the difference between reality and a dream. If Gansey asked if he would come to  
school today, his mood dropped quickly, not managing to get up for a couple of hours.  
But he needed to go. He knew it. As he knew that all of this was a big mistake which he shouldn't do, but still he still was doing right now.  
He also knew if he would go, his mind would escape his dream. This creepy bubble, he lived in. Kavinsky. But he had to.  
A couple of hours felt like a year. Or more than that. Finally he went home, starting the cold engine of his BMW.  
Kavinsky sat on his bed. Knitted eyebrows. 'Where have you been?' he asked, without giving a hint of his mood. 'School.',  
'Is that more important than I am?', 'No, I-', 'Then why are you going?', 'I-' 'Don't leave me alone again!', 'I-' '... Please.' Kavinsky's  
voice broke off, as if it had the intention to go silent for the next few hours. 'I love you' he said.  
On this point he should wake up, because now he was certain that this dream wasn't real.  
'I need you, Ronan Lynch.'  
The next days where beyong hell. He couldn't sleep. Again. Kavinsky didn't sleep either. He didn't need to. He was so unreal that  
Ronan didn't even dared to touch him anymore. So he went out. Went out with Gansey, who told him to 'Send him back to sleep.' which  
in other words meant to kill him. But Ronan couldn't. Neither in reality or in his dreams. Kavinsky was crying in anger when he came  
back, still not understanding Ronan's absence. Four more it went like this. Then, Ronan found something after he woke up.  
It was shimmering blue between his fingers. He balanced the blue pill between his thumb and his index finger and looked at Kavinsky,  
who was meeting his gaze. 'What's this?' he asked. 'Try.' Ronan said. He knew what it was. Kavinsky didn't. But he trusted Ronan like a blind dog.  
Kavinsky's body was cold like old, forgotten ashes.  
He was haunting him again, as his head was. He just hoped his heart stopped beating at any given moment.  
He was dying every second, faster than before, dragging himsellf through his own hell. Thursday it was. Or sunday. He wasn't sure.  
It didn't even make a difference for him. He felt asleep rather due exhaustion than that his mind told him to.  
He stood in cabeswater. It was raining. Warm drops running down his skin. It was misty.  
'Hello Ronan.' Kavinsky's voice reached him trough the thick fog, before he saw his body.  
A lazy smile. 'Missing me so much, huh?' Ronan didn't answer. He was tired. Tired of dreaming.  
'I don't want to talk to myself inside my head.' he said, after a long pause.  
'Who says this isn't real?' 'I am.' 'Stupid Ronan.' he said, smirking. 'Let me tell you, princess, I am as real as you are, in this  
very second. Never thought of coming back just to safe your ass.' Silence, thick as the fog around them.  
'You are real?' 'I won't repeat myself. But let me tell you this: Let go. Let me go, Lynch.'  
He leaned towards Ronan, lips slightly parted and kissed him.  
Ronan woke up.


End file.
